Fierce
by The Hash Slinging Slasher
Summary: Through a horrible accident, Light is plunged into the world of fashion, modeling for a new brand: Fierce. Can even an evil mastermind survive this perilous enviroment? Three-Shot.
1. Chapter 1

It was a bright, sunny day, perfectly contrasting with the dark, stormy, psychotic-ness of Light's mind. He was currently thinking about how he could prove to L that he wasn't Kira. Or kill L, either one would work. His scary darkness was interrupted by a vibration in his pocket. Light picked up his phone.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Light!"

_Oh great, Misa_. Light thought. He replied, "Yes, Misa?"

"When can we go on a _real_ date?"

Raito sighed. "I don't know Misa..."

"How about this Saturday?"

"I'm kind of busy-"

"A movie, or a walk in the park?"

"Misa, I'm-"

"Yeah, a walk in the park would be so much more romantic than just going to a movie. You're always right! See you Saturday!"

Light snapped his cell-phone shut. He continued his walk down the street. He was on his way to get Ryuk some apples... where was Ryuk?

_That's weird. Ryuk is usually always floating ominously above my head. _A loud crash brought Light's thoughts back to the street.

"You are a disgrace to all fashion! Get out of my sight! Out! Out!" The Disgrace To Fashion had just been thrown through a door, and had landed face-first on the sidewalk. The man who had yelled the insult stepped out after him.

The man's bright red hair, obviously dyed, stuck out from under his neon-green fedora. He wore a purple vest, a black and turquoise striped shirt, and skinny jeans. Light tried to simply ignore the ordeal and keep on walking, but the colorfully dressed man had other plans.

The man turned to look at Light, gasped, and said, "It's perfect..."

Light continued to try to walk on by, but the man moved, blocking his path.

"You. Are. Perfect."

Well, he had already known _that._

"Perfect for what?" Light asked anyway.

"Perfect for the position of poster boy of my new brand, _Fierce_." On the last word, the man raised his hands and made claws, scratching the air.

"I'm sorry, I don't really-" The man grabbed Light's hand and started pulling him into the building. He was surprisingly strong.

The building was quite similar to a bee-hive in several aspects. The noise, the amount of people, the speed those people were moving at, and the amount of room they had to move in. Despite this, the man dragging Light moved effortlessly through the crowd until they reached a desk.

"Sutairu Kimura, I see you've managed to find a replacement for Kenji, a very, very good replacement..." The young woman at the desk winked at Light.

"I know! Isn't he just fabulous? Anyway, can you book studio 1-A for me?" Sutairu said, as his Fabulous Replacement struggled for freedom.

The secretary spun around in her chair to a computer, typed furiously for several seconds, and then spun back around. "You've got the studio from twelve to one."

"Thank you." As Sutairu dragged Light away from the desk, he could see the secretary mouth the words_ call me_.

"Alright, its eleven thirty. That gives me a half hour to make you Fab- U- Lous." Sutairu and Light had arrived in a room overstuffed with clothing, mirrors, and accessories.

"I thought you said I was perfect."

"You can never be too perfect. Never. Especially with ears like yours you can't."

"What's wrong with my ears?"

"They're... plain."

"Plain?"

"Don't worry, not for long!"

After a very painful few seconds, Light now had Fab-U-Lous ears. Fabulous as in pierced with black diamond studs.

"I look like an idiot." Light said, examining his ears in a mirror.

"Did I say I was done?" Sutairu flung several articles of clothing at Light. "Go! Put these on!"

Light retreated to the dressing room. He was surrounded by full-length mirrors encircled by light bulbs. His toes were buried in the plush shag carpet.

"I need to get out of here," he muttered to himself. After a pause, he let out a burst of maniacal laughter. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the small piece of the Death Note he kept with him.

_Heh heh... I know this guy's name and face... I will go against my code of only killing criminals, because with him out of the way, I'll have a clear path to freedom... I'll just write his name down... oh no! _Light could not write the designer's name down, for he had no pen. Light searched his pockets frantically, but came up with nothing. He sighed.

A few minutes later, Light emerged from the dressing room. Sutairu practically squealed with excitement. His perfect model was dressed in _Fierce_ brand maroon trousers with two large-zippered pockets on each leg, an argyle polo with solid black cap sleeves, and tan leather loafers.

Sutairu grabbed Light by the wrist. "Okay, party's over. Time to get to work." Sutairu pulled Light down a long hallway, and finally into a large room. Sutairu threw open the door. It slammed loudly against the wall.

Through Light's great deducting skills, he came up with this conclusion: The first four seconds of stares he received were due to the fact that Sutairu had made such a loud noise when he opened the door. In the following two seconds, sixty percent of the stares were lost. The forty percent of the stares that did not cease were being given by females under the age of thirty.

Sutairu began to drag Light across the room. A girl reached out to touch Light's hair, and Sutairu reached out and smacked her hand away.

"Hands off, ladies."

Finally, they reached their destination. Sutairu directed Light over to a large green background.

"Okay, imagine you're in a jungle, surrounded by tigers... white tigers... that's the mood you need to be in." Sutairu said softly.

"What kind of mood is that supposed to put me in?" Light asked, but he had a strange feeling that he already knew the answer.

"The mood of _Fierce._" Sutairu made clawing motions with his hands.

"That does not make any sense." Light shook his head. How had he gotten into this?

Sutairu flicked on a fan, causing Light's hair to be blown slightly to the side.

"Oh, yes. That is _Fierce_, my friend. That is _Fierce_." Sutairu pulled out a oversized camera, and began taking pictures. As he walked back and forth, kneeled down, laid down, and moved waaay to close Light's face, he added comments like, "Think_ Fierce_, think_ Fierce_," and " Work with me, work with me!"

After what felt like ages for Light, a man came over and told them that their time in the studio was up. Light gave a sigh of relief, and let Sutairu lead him out of the room without protest.

After Light had changed back into his old clothes, Sutairu walked up to him.

"You were _Fierce_, very _Fierce_."

"Gee, thanks..." Light began to walk towards the door.

Sutairu looked shocked. "And where do you think you're going?"

"Home..."

"Without _this_?" Sutairu held out a large envelope. Light leaned over, took the envelope, and opened it. Light's eyes widened as he examined the contents of the envelope.

Sutairu smiled. "Oh, I just knew you'd love it!"

"Its... it's very, umm..." Light did not know how to describe the gift he had received. Hot pink v-necks were not exactly what you would call Light's style.

"Just a little gift from me to you. Alright, now. We really need to discuss something."

Light sighed. "Discuss what?"

"That strange person who has been following you all day... who's right over there." He pointed to the other side of the room.

Light screamed. There, on the other side of the room, was none other than the world's greatest detective.

"Hello Light-kun." L acted as if he had never heard Light's loud scream.

"Oh, I- I was just-"

"I didn't know you modeled."

"Well, this is-"

"You two know each other?" Sutairu walked over.

"Oh yeah... we go way back." Light said. But Light's thoughts were elsewhere.

_This isn't good. L might see this as some kind of desperate attempt to prove that I'm not Kira... and now, if I kill Sutairu, L will have indisputable proof that I am Kira. So if I stop modeling, he'll know that I went through this thought process, which means that I'm Kira. But... if I continue modeling, L will continue to think that I'm Kira-_

"Well, I'll see you eight o' clock sharp tomorrow." Sutairu said. "Your pay-check will be arriving in the mail soon"

"But-"

"No buts! Now, go home and get your beauty sleep."

* * *

Light closed the door to his bedroom. He then let out a very sinister, very long laugh. He opened up his drawer and pulled out his DeathNote. Then he reached over and grabbed a pen from the top of his _Calculus 8_ workbook. He let out yet another sinister laugh.

_Even if L does get indisputable proof_ _of me being Kira, I am not modeling tomorrow._ Light thought has he wrote furiously. _Sutairu...oh, great..._Light had the first name of his fashionable friend, but he did not have his last name. Light sighed, put away his DeathNote, and began to surf the web for some criminals to kill. That always made him feel better.

Light woke up to the sound of incredibly loud, high pitched screaming. He ran downstairs to see if his sister had stubbed her toe again, but only found his Dad staring out the window in amazement.

Light ran to the window. "What the..."

The Police Chief put his hands over his ears. "Light, I think they want you."

"What?"

"Just go Light...it's five in the morning, we need some sleep." And without further ado, Soichiro opened the door, and pushed Light out.

Light was hit with the loudest and most terrifying thing he'd ever heard: Five hundred fangirls screaming simultaneously.

* * *

**Author's Note:** First, I would just like to say that this whole story got started with me thinking:_ Wow, what if Light became a male model?_ But anyways, please **review** with criticism, praise, comments, etc.

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing.


	2. Chapter 2

"LIGHT!"

"I love you!"

"You're so awesome!"

"You're so fierce!"

"Will you marry me?"

Light made a run for it. He tore down the sidewalk at around ninety miles an hour, plowing over early morning joggers

_Once I am the god of the new world, I will eliminate all fangirls! They are a definite menace to society!_

When Light reached the city, he began seeing large posters of himself everywhere. He was wearing his _Fierce_ brand clothes, and the bold text beneath read: Be _Fierce_. Be very _Fierce_.

"Light! Get back here!"

"I love you!"

"You're the greatest person ever!"

"And the hottest person ever!"

"And the fiercest person ever!"

Light continued to dash down the street. As he ran, he thought he caught a glimpse of L eating cheesecake outside a shop, and he also thought he saw Mogi throwing breadcrumbs to the pigeons, but he was running so fast that the images blurred.

"LIGHT YAGAMI!!!" Misa's shrill voice pierced Light's eardrums. "WHAT ARE DOING?!?!" Misa joined the mob, pushing fangirls out of the way.

Light ran even faster. Misa was not a force to be messed with.

Light's legs were burning. He had thought of every possible escape plan in existence, but none would be sufficient against the fangirls. He had considered trying to kill them all with his DeathNote, but had eventually decided against this.

He felt his legs giving out. He could truly run no longer. This is how he would die. The all powerful Kira, trampled by fangirls.

"Catch."

Something made contact with Light's head. He looked up, and saw a ladder dangling from a white hot air balloon with a decorative letter L on it. Light grabbed the ladder, and immediately began to rise off the ground. He started to climb up the ladder.

"Noooooo!"

"He's getting away!"

"Stop him!"

The fangirls leaped up and grabbed Light's feet, pulling him back down. He struggled and kicked, but the fangirls held on, dragging him back to earth.

L began to climb down the ladder. When he reached the bottom, he unleashed several powerful kicks upon the clinging fangirls. One by one, they were all knocked off the ladder. After seeing that he the fangirls were gone, L began to climb back up the ladder, Light following.

"I don't believe you ever told me you had fangirls, Light-kun." L said once they were both in the basket of the hot-air balloon.

"Well... they're new."

L popped a sugar cube into his mouth. "That's too bad. How's your modeling been going?"

"Okay I guess..."

"You know... one might see this as some kind of desperate attempt to prove that you're not Kira."

"But if I were Kira, I would've used my powers to get rid of those fangirls."

L took a bite out of a large donut. "If all those fangirls suddenly dropped dead, it might cast a tad bit of suspicion upon you Light-kun."

Light sighed. "I'm not Kira!"

L crumbled a sugar cube onto his donut, then resumed eating it. "Well, I believe this is your stop, Light." He threw down the ladder.

"Thanks for the ride..." Light muttered as he climbed down the ladder. When he reached the bottom, Sutairu was waiting for him.

"You're late." Today Sutairu's hair was frosted, and he wore a bright purple shirt. "Let's go." He pulled Light into the building, and over to the front desk.

The secretary had on a t-shirt with a large letter I, a heart, and a picture of Light's face. "Hey Light!"

Sutairu looked agitated. "A-HEM? Hello? I need you to get me studio 8-b, if you're not too busy staring at Light."

She continued staring at Light.

Sutairu snapped his fingers several times.

She continued staring at Light.

Sutairu sighed. "This happens a lot. Plug your ears."

Light did as he was told, and was glad he did. Sutairu opened a drawer on the side of the desk, and took out an air-horn. He held down the trigger for ten seconds, then released.

"Wha-? Oh, sorry. Studio 8-b coming right up."

"Thank you."

Sutairu pulled Light across the room, and into the elevator. He stabbed at the button with the glowing _8_, and they began to rise. Instead of the normal soft, quiet elevator music, jumpy bubble gum pop played. Light was very annoyed.

"Why is their bubblegum pop playing?" Light asked. He had always had a special place in his heart for bubble gum pop. Right next to the area that helped him to decide who to kill next.

"Oh, does it bother you? Maybe if you had shown up on time for work, you and I could have had a little chat about it." Sutairu's was apparently not very happy with his star model right now.

Light rolled his eyes. Sutairu was quite the character. "Oh, I've been meaning to apologize for being late. It won't happen again."

"It better not." There was a pause, then the doors slid open.

Apart from a photographer, the studio was empty. Sutairu and Light stepped in.

"You're a super-model now, Light." Sutairu had apparently forgotten about Light being late.

"That's... nice."

"Nice? It's fabulous. Your paycheck doubles, and any second now you'll be receiving numerous commercial offers."

Light was silent. His looks were digging his grave.

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**Author's Note**: Sorry about the late update... the real world got in my way. Well, I hope you liked this chapter. It's short, I know, but next chapter will be longer. And if you review, L will give you a ride in his hot air balloon.

**Disclaimer. **Don't own nothing. (Don't pretend you don't know what a double negative is; it means _Don't own __anythin__g_, okay?)


	3. Chapter 3

Sutairu grabbed Light by the forearm, and began pulling him towards a room at the other end of the studio. When they reached the room, Sutairu pushed Light in, and said,

"Your outfit is inside, Hurry up, the photographer is getting paid by the hour."

Light turned around. A pinstriped suit with a slim yellow tie was hung up on the wall. A pair of black slacks was hung up to next to it.

The suit didn't look all that fierce, until closer examination revealed that the stripes were actually the word fierce written over and over again.

Light rolled his eyes. _What kind of self-respecting person would wear this? There's-_

Light's thoughts were interrupted by a loud clattering overhead. He looked up, and saw that the light was shaking violently. It fell to the floor with a loud crash.

"Ahh! That was loud. Somebody could've heard that." said a surprisingly familiar voice from the ceiling. The voice was followed up by a head, poking through the hole that had been created by the absent light.

"Matsuda?" Light asked, still staring at the ceiling.

"Shhh! This is a stealth mission. No noise." Matsuda was wearing a black beanie, and had black paint under his eyes.

"Matsuda, what are you doing?"

Matsuda looked suspiciously around the room, then answered, "I'm busting you outta here."

"I'm not in jail. I can leave whenever I want." Light lied.

"That's what they all say." And with that, Matsuda disappeared into the ceiling.

Several minutes later, Light emerged wearing his _Fierce_ suit.

"Oh, don't you just look fabulicious," Sutairu squealed, looking Light over as he did so.

Light would have replied, but the suit was extremely form fitting, and he was having trouble breathing.

Sutairu pulled Light towards a large leather armchair, surrounded by lights, fans, and other equipment.

"Okay. Sit down, and look fierce."

Light sat down, and tried to look fierce.

"You don't look very fierce." Sutairu said, crossing his arms.

Light opened his mouth to, "Hey! You're the one who dragged me into this, so why don't go find someone who looks fiercer," but he didn't. He didn't because he saw Matsuda, climbing across the ceiling with suction cups duct taped to his hands and feet.

Light changed position.

"Oh! That is perfect. That is fierce." Sutairu signaled to the photographer, and he began clicking away.

Meanwhile, Matsuda slowly made his way across the ceiling towards them.

As Sutairu ooh'ed and ah'ed, Light considered his options. He could let Matsuda try and rescue him, which probably wouldn't work. He could make a run for it, which probably wouldn't work. Maybe...

Matsuda peeled off the tape connecting his hands to the suction cups. He swung precariously towards the floor, then steadied himself. He appeared to be standing on the ceiling.

Next, he took off his beanie, reached inside, and pulled out a dart and a small tube. He placed his beanie back on his head.

Sutairu and the cameraman had their backs to Matsuda, which was good. Because, had they been facing the other way, they would have seen Matsuda slip he dart into the tube, and put it to his mouth.

_Matsuda, you idiot! _Light thought,_ You have one dart, and there are two of them. If you hit one, the other one will turn around and call the cops!_

Matsuda's cheeks ballooned as he fired the dart. It went about two feet, then fell to the floor with a small clatter.

The camera's clicking muffled the sound, but by the way Matsuda was wincing, you'd think he had dropped a cymbal. Carefully, Matsuda swung back up to the ceiling, being careful to grab the suction cups before he fell back down. Matsuda re-taped them to his hands, and began to creep away.

Several minutes later, a girl came into the studio. Her pigtailed hair was dyed blond, and she had a bright pink shirt on. Giggling, she ran all the way over to Light.

Her voice was unusually high-pitched. "Oh, Light! Can I have your autograph?"

"Matsuda?" hissed Light.

The _girl_ winked.

Sutairu ran over, "What do you think you're doing? Can't wait outside the building like a normal fan- girl?"

This, apparently, offended the girl greatly. "I'm just getting an autograph. SHEESH."

"You have until the count of three, then I call security. Three. SECURITY!!!"

Ten armed guards burst in through the door, bee-lining for Matsuda. He made a break for the dressing room, but was quickly caught and tackled by the guards.

"Get your hands off me you freaks! This is no way to treat a lady!" Matsuda yelled, as the security guards dragged him away.

Sutairu tisked loudly. "Fan-girls."

Ten minutes passed without a single rescue attempt by Matsuda. By this time, Light had switched from his_ Fierce_ suit to a_ Fierce _t-shirt and jeans.

Ten mote minutes passed, and Light had given up hope. He realized that he would be stuck modeling forever, and there was nothing he could do about it. Such a waste of potential. He could've been a doctor, o a firefighter, or maybe even the god of the new world.

That's when something totally unexpected happened. Something that nobody saw coming. Not even Light.

A man burst into the studio. The man was wearing a large, fur-hooded coat, and a huge crucifix hung around his neck. his hair was that of a little Dutch girls, but his face was that of someone who had seen many psychiatrists. He held a bar of chocolate in his teeth, because his hands were full. Of guns.

In his left and right hands he held the two biggest guns Light had ever seen.

"I HATE THE WORLD OF FASHION!" The man yelled, as he spun wildly around, guns a' blaze. How he managed to yell while keeping the bar of chocolate in his mouth, Light would never know.

Light made a break for the dressing room, Sutairu screamed hysterically, and the cameraman tried to hide behind some equipment.

"I HATE MODELS!" Mello ( Light would come to know him by this name later) screamed, turning his fire on Light.

The tile floor around Light exploded, spraying him with fine particles of shrapnel. He flung open the door to the dressing room, and dived inside.

Light landed on the floor with a thud. He swiveled around, and saw the door being blown apart, pieces of wood flying everywhere.

A stray piece of wood, roughly the size of a crumb, wound up directly lodged in Light's left eye.

"Ow!" Light exclaimed, bending over in pain. The might wielder of the Death Note, defeated by a tiny splinter.

Suddenly, the gun-fire ceased. Light crept over to the door, and looked through one of the bullet holes with his good eye. Just as soon as he had, a large window on the other side of the studio shattered, and three figures in dark suits and sunglasses jumped in. Light quickly identified them as Aizawa, Mogi, and his Dad.

Light quickly surveyed the situation. The Dutch girl clearly had superior firepower (as it did not appear as though the Investigation Team was armed), but she was outnumbered. Also, besides the window, she held the only two escape routes.

Light was correct, except for the firepower part.

Mogi reached into his sit, and pulled out two 600 Nitro Express Magnum Pistols. Soichiro drew duel U.Z.I sub-machine guns, and Aizawa topped of f the impressive display with an M-16 machine gun.

After a brief stare-down, the studio erupted into gunfire. Mello dived behind some racks of clothes, and the Investigation Team ducked behind some photography gear.

The two sides were in a dead lock, until Mello stopped to re-load. Aizawa took advantage of the moment to break cover. He dived, somersaulted, and broke into a sprint for the clothing racks.

He fired blindly, waving his guns back and forth, shredding varied articles of clothing. Mello, not done re-loading his massive guns, saw Aizawa, and threw them aside. He reached into his coat, and pulled out two pistols. Each one had a red skull on the side. Mello had painted them personally.

_Wow_, Light thought, _He still has the chocolate in his mouth._

Aizawa was now ten feet away, and coming in fast.

Mello took evasive maneuvers. He turned around, and charged towards the wall.

Having reached the clothing racks, Aizawa through them aside, closing on Mello.

When Mello was about a foot away from the wall, he jumped. He contorted his body in mid-air, so that he was at a ninety degree angle with the wall. Still moving upwards, he kicked out a leg, slamming it against the wall. He proceeded to kick out his other leg while simultaneously pulling upward, propelling himself up the wall. Newton's law of gravity had a few things to say about this, but Mello wasn't listening.

A trail of bullet holes followed Mello up the wall, as Aizawa tried to get a shot in.

Mello kicked off the wall with both legs, which sent him over Aizawa's head, and onto the floor behind him. One of his eyes narrowed, and his face twisted into a psychotic sneer. He trained both pistols on Aizawa's back

"Yaaaaah!!" Matsuda burst out of nowhere, tackling Mello. Mello slammed into Aizawa, and all three went tumbling through the open door, and down the stairs Soichiro and Mogi were right behind them.

Light cracked open the door to the dressing room. He could only think of one possible explanation for what had happened. L had sent this psycho as a test, to see what Light would do.

Light ran towards the elevator. There was no way that Kira would follow the Investigation Team into danger.

The annoying bubble gum pop elevator music began to play, and it certainly did not fit the mood of the situation.

Light managed to get the splinter out his eye just before he reached the first floor, which announced itself with a happy _ding_!

Light almost preferred bubble gum pop to the deafening gun-fire that replaced it. The Investigation Team was crouching below window level, firing at Mello, who was hiding behind a parked car on the other side of the street.

Light army crawled over to his Dad. "Dad! What's going on?""

The Police Chief slipped another clip of ammo into his U.Z.I. "Matsuda called, he said you had been taken hostage." Soichiro turned to Aizawa. "Now."

Aizawa reached into his pocket, pulled out a small black sphere, and lobbed it through the shattered window. It bounced twice, then exploded, pouring thick grey smoke into the air. Soon, they couldn't even see across the street.

Soichiro jumped over the windowsill, and was immediately consumed by the smoke. The other members of the Investigation Team followed suit, as did Light

When they emerged from the smoke, Soichiro signaled to the door of the building in front of them. They crept stealthily inside.

The building was really a small shop, decked from head to toe in small, delicate glass bottles. In the middle of the shop there were two island-counters, which held small, delicate glass bottle displays.

Matsuda reached out to touch one of the bottles, but Soichiro slapped his hand away.

"YAAAAAAHH!" Mello burst out from a door at the back of the shop. "HEE HEE!"

The Investigation Team scattered as Mello fired several shots. Each bullet connected with at least ten bottles, which exploded in a spectacular display of brightly colored liquid.

Suddenly, the shop started to smell very fragrant, and Light realized exactly where they were. A perfume shop.

When the Investigation team returned fire, destroying even more bottles, the smell became intense. So intense, that Matsuda passed out, and Mogi had to drag his body onto the sidewalk.

The smell seemed to enrage Mello, who jumped onto an island, and spun around in circles firing his pistols yelling, "Die perfume, DIE!"

This would have been a perfect time for the Investigation Team to shoot him, but they were all choking on the fatal fumes.

Light decided to take action. He pulled Aizawa's machine gun out of his hands, and pointed it at Mello. His finger was closing around the trigger, when he slipped on a puddle of perfume, landing on his back with a loud _THUD_. He finished pulling the trigger, and began obliterating the ceiling.

But, before things could get any more chaotic, an unearthly shriek rang our through the shop. It pierced eardrums, cracked glass, and ceased all other sound and movement in the shop.

Sutairu smiled. "Much better." he looked at Light, "Your fired." he looked at Mello, "And you... you're perfect."

Mello took a bite out of his chocolate bar. "So?"

"Perfect for the position of poster-boy for my new brand, _Rage_."

Mello stepped down from the island. "_Rage_... I like the sound of that."

The two walked out of the shop together, talking about black leather, salaries, and other modeling things. Mello looked altogether happier than Light had.

Mogi cleared his throat, then said, "And that is why he's number two."

* * *

**Author's Note:** The end. Sorry that updates were slow, but I hope that you still enjoyed this three-shot. Oh, and if you really really liked this, I will be writing another Death Note three-shot soon, called Death and the Dinner Party.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Death Note, or any Death Note characters.


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